


A Day In The Life

by MaliceManaged



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Avenger Loki, F/M, Loki Does What He Wants, Male-Female Friendship, Tumblr Prompt, Tumblr: imagine-loki
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-12
Updated: 2017-07-14
Packaged: 2018-09-17 03:08:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9301346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaliceManaged/pseuds/MaliceManaged
Summary: A chronicle of the adventures (read: shenanigans) of Isabel Montenegro and one Loki Laufeyson.





	1. Caller ID

**Author's Note:**

> This will be a series based on different prompts, with maybe one chapter per prompt unless my mind decides otherwise. Updated whenever.
> 
> First chapter prompt: _Imagine finding Loki’s phone and seeing that your name in his contacts is “smol mortal”._

    “Isabel; I require a favour,” Loki called without bothering with a greeting as he walked into the lounge to find precisely the Avenger he was looking for.

 

    The woman in question - a tan-skinned, voluptuous female with long wavy black hair currently tied into a messy bun high on her head, and almond-shaped eyes of a blue so light they were practically white as a result of her icy powers - was sitting curled up on one of the couches wearing an oversized black t-shirt that read ‘Don’t Blink’ in large white letters over cut-off jean shorts, holding a tablet in her hand and occasionally poking at it with her other hand.

 

    “Depends on how illegal it is and whether or not I get to keep my clothes on,” Isabel replied distractedly without looking up from the screen.

 

    Loki rolled his eyes. “It was _one time,_ woman,” He began then smirked, “Let it go.”

 

    Isabel lifted her hand from the tablet to flip him the bird, earning a laugh. She was never going to forgive Clint (or Disney) for that one. “What do you want, Loki?”

 

    “I _want_ many things, dear,” Loki replied amusedly, “I _need_ you to call my phone.”

 

    “Why?” Isabel drawled, still not looking up.

 

    “I can’t find it,” Loki replied. Isabel looked up at him with a raised eyebrow to find a slightly embarrassed expression. “I... may have been a little drunk last night,” He admitted somewhat sheepishly.

 

    Isabel let out an amused snort. “More likely, it’s a wonder how you found your bed,” She teased.

 

    “You assume it was _my_ bed I found,” Loki retorted, the embarrassment vanishing in favour of a smirk.

 

    “Con tan buena madre...” Isabel snorted, earning a wide grin she shook her head at. “And what do I get in return?”

 

    “My undying gratitude,” Loki replied importantly, waiting for her reaction.

 

    He didn’t have to wait long. “Ha! Fuck, no,” Isabel retorted, “I want something _useful,_ pana.”

 

    “What’s more useful than the gratitude of a god?” Loki scoffed with mock indignation.

 

    “Tampons?” Isabel suggested.

 

    Loki opened his mouth to reply then paused for a moment. “I see your point,” He conceded, “Very well; what do you want in return?”

 

    Isabel thought for a moment then shrugged. “Favour for a favour? The usual rules?”

 

    “Done,” Loki replied with a nod.

 

    “Well, alright then,” Isabel said then set her tablet aside and unfolded herself from the couch.

 

    She picked her phone up from the coffee table in front of her and looked through her contacts, letting out a quiet snort at the picture of a very unamused Loki covered in bright orange paint that she’d set for his ID before dialling. Once it connected, she nodded to him then they waited for a moment. Hearing nothing in the room (not that either thought they would, but you never know), they went throughout the rest of the rooms on that floor. When that proved fruitless, they split up to search the tower; Loki went one floor down and Isabel to the one above, intending to work their way through the rest as they finished.

 

 

******

 

 

    Half an hour later, they had turned the search into a sort of competition to see who could find the phone first. Isabel wasn’t quite sure how that happened, but it was hardly surprising that it did; whenever she and Loki were left to their own devices for extended periods of time, they tended to end up with either a competition or a dare, followed by their one phone call to either Steve or Thor (or the pizza place that one time). At this point, they knew the guys at the precinct by name and wished their kids happy birthdays.

 

    Isabel poked her head into one of the labs and listened, getting a few odd looks from the people working inside, then moved on to the next room and so on. Finally, she faintly heard the chorus of The Romanovs’ ‘King’ further down the hall and she laughed quietly to herself. Of _course_ that was her ringtone. Say what you would about the man; Loki certainly was one to pay attention to detail. Using her powers to create trails of ice on the floor, mainly to piss Tony off, Isabel slid the rest of the way until she reached the door the music was coming from.

 

    Isabel spared a thought to wonder why the hell Loki left his phone in one of the storage rooms then walked inside. The call went to voicemail before she could see where the phone was so she dialled again, finding it behind a shelf, which only raised more questions. She was about to hang up and go look for Loki, when she noticed the caller ID and stopped, looking again to see if she was mistaken.

 

   But, no; there it was in bold letters, above the picture of her in a burgundy cocktail dress, holding an open bottle of champagne and blowing a kiss to the camera that he’d taken on New Year’s Eve:

 

**Smol Mortal**

 

    Isabel stared at the screen until the call went to voicemail, wondering how she was going to retaliate. She knew she was short, barely reaching five-foot-two, something Loki immensely enjoyed using against her despite the danger it posed to his well-being. But she drew the line at ‘cute’. She was _not_ cute, dammit! With that in mind, she left a message and went off to find Loki. And possibly murder him; she hadn’t decided yet.

 

 

******

 

 

    Loki had just stepped out of the elevator where the lounge was, figuring Isabel had found his phone as it had to be in one of the floors she took, when he was pelted with dozens of snowballs, one of which felt much more solid than the others. Isabel, of course, had fled the moment she’d launched her attack, not that that would stop him from getting her back.

 

    He always did enjoy a good hunt, after all.

 

   He looked down and noticed something that looked suspiciously rectangular under the snow; bending over, he picked up his phone, unwrapping it from the plastic Isabel had put it in so as to not ruin it. Loki unlocked the phone to find the ridiculous number of missed calls that their search resulted in as well as one voicemail. He dialled, figuring the message was Isabel’s explanation for the snowballs.

 

    “I knew giving you unsupervised access to the internet was a bad idea,” Isabel’s voice said, not sounding particularly amused, “You are such an asshole.”

 

    Loki chuckled to himself and, drying himself from the melting snow with a careless wave of his hand, walked down the hall to look for Isabel. He found her in the kitchen raiding the fridge for a snack. Sparing a moment to... admire the view; he walked up behind her as she straightened back up, a container of what remained of the cookies she had made several days prior in her hands, and wrapped his arms around her shoulders, earning a surprised gasp as she froze. Literally.

 

    “Cabrón; get off me!” Isabel cried as she tried to wriggle out of his grasp. ‘Tried’ being the operative word.

 

    “You’re the one who wanted me to stop calling you ‘Íss’,” Loki said matter-of-factly, not letting go even as the chill of her skin started turning his arms blue.

 

    Isabel paused, momentarily wondering what that had to do with anything until she remembered her message. “So you go with _that?”_ She asked incredulously.

 

    “It seemed fitting,” Loki replied with a shrug.

 

    “Asshole,” Isabel retorted, smiling despite herself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Con tan buena madre..." = from the saying "Con tan buena madre, y tan hijo de puta que eres", which means 'With such a good mother, and you're such a son of a bitch'  
> "pana" = 'pal'  
> "Cabrón" = depending on the context, it's either an insult or something akin to 'dude'  
> "Íss" = Old Norse for 'ice'


	2. Chaos, Thy Name Is Loki

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Imagine introducing Loki to the Sims game and he uses it to wreak havoc on other sims.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I _may_ or may not have based a most of the game occurrences on my own saves… I also couldn’t resist throwing in a little myth joke; if you find it you get a virtual cookie.

    It had been a long week with barely a moment to rest as the Avengers ran around putting out fires, both metaphorical and literal, but finally, _finally,_ they got a break. Most of the team took off on their separate ways, leaving only Isabel and Loki in the tower; the former due to a broken leg and some bruised ribs, and Loki simply didn’t feel like going out.

 

    They hadn’t seen each other since breakfast, but sometime after midday the god had wandered into the living room of their shared floor where Isabel sat with her laptop on a portable desk in front of her, playing a game; he gave her a vague greeting as he sat down beside her and she responded with an even vaguer hum of acknowledgement, so focused was she on the screen. Loki chuckled quietly and turned to the book he’d brought with him, and so went the next ten minutes.

 

    “Come on, man, it’s your third kid; you know how this works, stop freaking out and go to work already,” Isabel suddenly said, throwing her hands up.

 

    Loki looked up, brows furrowed, then turned to her. “What... _are_ you doing?” He asked bemusedly.

 

    Isabel started slightly, having forgotten he was there, then looked up at him. “Oh, uh; I’m playing Sims.”

 

    At his blank expression she giggled and waved him over, angling the laptop so he could see it better. “It’s a simulation game, as the name suggests. This is the third one; there’s a fourth one, but, meh. The basics is you create your own household of sims - or play a pre-existing one but why would you? - and play out their lives however you want.”

 

    “See this?” She pointed to the bottom left of the screen, earning a hum, “Those are your sim’s wishes, things they want to do, and you can click on them and do it to earn happiness points, or you can ignore them because they’re not the boss of you.” That earned her a chuckle.

 

    “Next to that is the mood bar; keep their needs up - that’s hunger, energy, fun, that stuff - and do stuff they enjoy and it stays green, which is good. Orange is less good, and red basically means you’re a horrible person and you should never be in charge of an actual living being.” She looked up at him. “It gets pretty involved when you like it, a lot easier to just play it than to explain.”

 

    “I see. May I?” Loki asked, gesturing to the laptop.

 

    “Sure; I’m hungry anyway. Let me just save,” Isabel replied then turned the laptop back to herself and saved her game. When it was done, she exited to the main menu and started a new save, pushing the desk away from herself and grabbing her crutches before getting up. “All yours.”

 

 

******

 

 

    Isabel had every intention of checking to see how Loki was getting along with the game after lunch, but she’d been called to deal with a matter down on the lobby, being the only qualified (more or less) Avenger currently available. After that she’d gotten a call from one of her cousins who was having a bit of a crisis (in his own words). After _that_ she’d pressed the wrong button in the elevator and ended up being called into one of the labs to assist them with her powers.

 

    The end result was two hours before she made it to hers and the asgardian brothers’ floor.

 

    As she approached the couch, she took in the concentrated look on Loki’s face occasionally followed by a smirk, which both made her very curious and apprehensive about what exactly he was doing to the poor digital people in his care. Curiosity won out and she manoeuvred herself into the seat beside him, setting the crutches down before turning to the screen. It took her a moment to take in what she was seeing, and another to accept that, yes, she was in fact seeing correctly.

 

    “Loki... why is everything on fire?” Isabel asked at length.

 

    Loki merely shrugged in response.

 

     She squinted slightly at the screen. “Is... is that a crater? No, that’s... that’s _two_ craters. Why are there craters?”

 

    Another shrug.

 

    “Why do you have an army of cowplants? Aaaaand he took the cake. Poor sucker.”

 

    He smirked.

 

    She tilted her head to the side. “What _is_ that horse doing? How did you even _do_ that?”

 

    A quiet snicker.

 

    “Madre santa; I’ve created a monster,” Isabel concluded, sounding somewhere between impressed and deeply concerned.

 

    “That you have,” Loki replied, sounding immensely pleased with himself.

 

    Isabel blinked and leaned closer to the screen, by consequence half leaning on Loki’s side. “’Pérate un momento; is that me??” She looked back at Loki warningly, “You better not kill me!”

 

    Loki scoffed and elbowed her off of him, careful to avoid her injured ribs. “Relax; _you’re_ perfectly safe,” He replied then smiled mischievously, “Which is more than can be said for the rest of the neighbourhood.”

 

    “Why’d you even create a sim me, anyway?” Isabel asked, turning her attention back to the screen and looking at the character portraits, “Wait; is that you? You made us?”

 

    Loki didn’t respond for a moment. “It made sense at the time,” He finally said with another shrug.

 

    Isabel chuckled then half leaned on him again to watch him play, offering the occasional comment or just laughing at his more creative decisions. After a few hours they paused for dinner, which consisted of Isabel basically ordering Loki to go make it while he pretended he was doing so solely because he wanted to, then they returned to the game.

 

    Sometime later Loki felt more weight against his side and glanced over to find that Isabel had fallen asleep; he smiled a bit then used his seidr to carefully move her around so that she was lying on the couch with her head on his lap. At some point he sensed Thor walk by and heard him chuckle before he continued on to his room, but otherwise paid him no mind. When he finally decided he should probably sleep at some point, he saved and closed the game and carefully got up so as to not jostle Isabel too much.

 

    He considered leaving her there but ultimately decided against it; slipping an arm under her shoulders and the other under her knees, he picked her up. She instinctively wrapped her arms around his shoulders and buried her face in his neck, making him smile. He took her to her room and put her to bed, using his seidr to remove her bra so that she’d be more comfortable. Brushing her hair out of her face, Loki watched her a little longer then turned and left the room, silently closing the door behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Madre santa" = 'Holy mother'  
> "’Pérate un momento" = slang for 'espérate un momento', which means 'wait a moment'


	3. The Burdens Of Friendship

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: _Imagine Loki throwing you over his shoulder and carrying you around._

    In hindsight, Isabel should have figured something was up when Clint told her that Loki was looking for her. Clint _never_ did Loki any favours. _Ever._

 

    But she didn’t think about that, and so she went looking for her troublesome friend. She searched for several floors, being directed to opposite directions often enough to wonder if maybe he was avoiding her on purpose just to mess with her; it wouldn’t exactly be the first time. When she did finally find him, however, she quickly came to wish she hadn’t. She should have seen the purposefulness of his steps toward her for the warning they were, but she didn’t.

 

    She’d barely begun to ask him what he wanted her for when he bent down to grab her by the waist and slung her over his shoulder. “¿Qué carajo?!” She half shrieked in surprise, “Put me down!”

 

    Loki hummed in mock consideration. “No,” He replied simply then continued to walk in the direction he’d been going.

 

    Isabel spluttered for a moment then groaned in frustration and stopped struggling, figuring he’d get bored sooner or later and let her down. Loki walked into the lounge on the way to the elevator and Clint snorted before bursting out laughing.

 

    “Barton, you asshole; you set me up!” Isabel accused pointing her finger at him.

 

    “That’s for last week, Icicle,” Clint called back between laughter.

 

    Once in the elevator Isabel had no idea what floor they were going to, seeing as she was facing away from the buttons. “Where are you taking me?”

 

    “Places,” Loki replied vaguely, earning a sound somewhere between a sigh and a growl that he laughed lightly at.

 

 

******

 

 

    “Loki; put me down,” Isabel tried again.

 

    “No,” Loki replied almost before she could finish speaking.

 

    “Why not?” Isabel half whined.

 

    “I don’t want to.” Loki adjusted her a bit as he walked into the lab he’d been sent to with a file that needed delivering. The people working there eyed the pair curiously but made no comment, by now knowing better than to question anything they did. “Besides, I thought you liked spending time with me,” He teased as he walked back into the hall for the next errand.

 

    “Yeah; on my own two feet!” Isabel retorted.

 

    “Interesting,” Loki replied amusedly, earning another frustrated groan.

 

    “Do I at least get bathroom breaks?” Isabel asked sarcastically.

 

    “Of course! I’m not a monster,” Loki scoffed with mock indignation.

 

    “Lucky me,” Isabel grumbled.

 

 

******

 

 

    He set her down on the counter for lunch, though he kept an arm casually slung over her lap as they ate their sandwiches. When they were done he waited a while for the food to settle before picking her up again, much to her annoyance. She had really hoped he’d get bored of whatever game this was long before then, but it seemed as though he was intending to keep it up for the rest of the day.

 

    While delivering a box of... something to one of the offices further down the tower, Loki felt Isabel lift his shirt up and then the unmistakable sensation of her fingers on his skin. “Isabel; what are you doing?”

 

    “Trying to see if I can spell my name in blue before it changes back,” Isabel replied somewhat distractedly as she worked.

 

    Loki paused for a moment before shaking his head and resuming walking; he was more surprised it had taken her that long to do something like that than by the action itself. In any case the feeling of her frigid fingers gliding along his back was quite pleasant, not that he’d admit so aloud.

 

    “Ha! Success!” Isabel cheered suddenly, startling the workers in the otherwise silent office.

 

    Loki snorted in amusement at both the declaration and the reaction to it. “Good for you.”

 

 

******

 

 

    They were in the lobby, Maria trying _very_ hard to keep a straight face as she talked to Loki. Isabel had by now given up all hope of being any closer to the floor and simply alternated between hanging limply and propping herself up as best she could and looking around. Occasionally she waved at people, disrupting the air of professionalism otherwise about by causing badly suppressed snickers or outright laughs.

 

    She saw a delivery person walk into the building and make his way to the front desk, blinking in surprise at the sight that met him there before turning to his clipboard. “Excuse me; I have a package for a Miss Isabel Montenegro?” He said, awkwardly stumbling with the pronunciation before looking up again, “Need her to sign for it.”

 

    “Mon-teh-neh-gro,” Isabel enunciated slowly, more than used to having to, “That’s me.” She turned to Loki as best she could. “Will you put me down already?!”

 

    “I’ll be very disappointed if you can’t manage something that easy,” Loki replied amusedly.

 

    Isabel let her head drop forward with a sigh. “I hate you so much today.” She raised herself up again and gestured to the delivery person, who wasn’t sure whether to be weirded out or amused. Regardless he handed her the clipboard and the pen then took it back after she signed it, leaving the package on the desk for her. “Thanks.”

 

    “See? That wasn’t so difficult, was it?” Loki teased, causing Maria to finally lose her composure.

 

    “Váyase al carajo,” Isabel retorted, causing Maria to laugh harder.

 

    Loki chuckled then, with a nod at the still-laughing Maria, he picked up Isabel’s package and went to the elevator. It stopped a few floors below his intended destination for Sam, who blinked before stepping inside. Isabel looked up at him then saluted.

 

    “Do I want to know how long this has been going on?” Sam asked amusedly.

 

    “Mano, I don’t even know anymore,” Isabel replied with resignation.

 

    Sam chuckled. “And is there a reason?”

 

    “There is,” Loki replied simply, flashing a grin.

 

    “Ah; I see,” Sam said, half-heartedly trying not to laugh. The elevator reached his intended floor. “Well, good luck,” He said before getting out.

 

 

******

 

 

    “Por amor a patria; put me down already!” Isabel cried out desperately halfway to the library Tony had had added after a considerable amount of badgering.

 

    Loki ignored her until they reached the library then _finally_ set her down on her feet so suddenly it made her dizzy and she stumbled forward, having to cling to him to stay upright. “And here I thought you wanted to get away from me,” He teased.

 

    “Hate!” Isabel retorted as she found her balance and stepped back, earning a laugh. “Okay, seriously, why?!”

 

    “Because I like you,” Loki replied with a brilliant smile.

 

    Isabel stared at him for a long while. “You’re an asshole.”

 

    Loki laughed. “And yet you’re still here,” He pointed out.

 

    “Well, _someone_ has to put up with you,” Isabel replied with a mostly straight face.

 

    “I suppose so,” Loki said seriously with a nod. Suddenly he lunged at her, grabbing her by the waist again and lifting her, eliciting a surprised cry from her, before sitting in one of the armchairs in the room and placing her on his lap. “I’m glad it’s you,” He finished, kissing her cheek.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "¿Qué carajo?!" = the closest equivalent is 'what the fuck', but 'carajo' as a curse word doesn't really have a translation  
> "Váyase al carajo" = either 'go to hell' or 'fuck off'; whichever you like best XD  
> 'Mano' = slang for 'man' as in 'dude', literally 'hand'  
> 'Por amor a patria' = 'for the love of country'


	4. Careful What You Wish For

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Imagine going lingerie shopping with Loki.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good gods, carpal tunnel suck! I've been sitting on, like, half this chapter for almost two weeks! This turned out a bit longer than intended, but meh. Prepare thine eyes for some innuendos, because Loki and Isabel are mature adults like that.

    It had been a quiet day so far in the famous building that housed the equally famous Avengers, or at least the more infamous members thereof at present. Isabel had allowed herself to sleep in for a change and surprisingly enough, Loki had actually let her; when she did get out of bed, she’d taken a long bath, gotten some almost-lunch and then elected to lounge in the living room of their floor watching TV.

 

    Sometime after, she decided to get on with the errands she’d been putting off for days, both because of work and because she just hadn’t felt like doing them, when in walked her favourite roommate. Loki didn’t say a word, simply sprawled out on the couch half on her lap, his hair falling over most of his face and the rest pressed against the skin of her stomach left bare by the short top she wore. A half-smile pulled at her lips and she combed her fingers through his hair, earning a pleased sigh. Maybe those errands could wait a little longer, she decided.

 

    She had thought he’d fallen asleep, when he made a sort of huffing noise and shifted his head a bit. “I need you to call my phone,” He asked, sounding somewhat dazed as he always did when she played with his hair.

 

    Isabel looked down at him with a raised eyebrow. “You lost it again?”

 

    “I didn’t lose it,” Loki huffed, “It’s somewhere in this room, I just don’t feel like getting up to get it.”

 

    “Why do you need me to call it, then?” Isabel asked confusedly, “Just summon it.”

 

    “I need to know _exactly_ where it is to summon it, love; my magick is limited, remember?” Loki replied, lifting one of his wrists to her eye level and waving the magick-dampening cuff on it pointedly.

 

    “Should’ve thought of that _before_ setting Ross on fire,” Isabel snorted.

 

    “ _Harmless_ flames,” Loki defended.

 

    “Dude; you nearly gave him a heart attack,” Isabel countered with a more-or-less straight face.

 

    Loki rolled his eyes. “We should be so lucky.” That earned him a laugh. “My phone, Isabel.”

 

    “Fine, fine,” Isabel sighed. She picked up her phone and dialled his number; soon after, her ringtone filled the room and Loki pulled the phone to him. She caught a glimpse of the screen as she ended the call and frowned a bit. “You’re seriously not going to change that?”

 

    Loki smirked up at her. “But it’s so accurate,” He teased as he tucked his phone into the pocket of his jeans, and she let out a disgusted noise in response.

 

    “Get off me,” Isabel demanded, shoving his shoulder, for all the good it did.

 

    “Now why should I want to do that?” Loki asked, propping his head on his elbow.

 

    “Because I have to go out,” Isabel replied.

 

    “And this matters to me?” Loki asked with mock bewilderment.

 

    “It should,” Isabel replied, lightly flicking his nose, which caused his face to scrunch in what she might have called an adorable manner if saying so aloud wouldn’t all but guarantee he would refuse to budge from her lap.

 

    “You’ll have to make quite the compelling argument for me to give up _this_ comfort,” Loki said, wrapping his arms around her middle and pressing his face against her abdomen.

 

    Isabel let out a groan, having anticipated he would say something like that. For a being of over a thousand years of age, he could be so childish when he chose to be. “You get to watch me undress; how’s that?” She offered, hoping he wouldn’t be stubborn about leaving the tower today.

 

    Loki looked up with a raised eyebrow. “I thought we agreed that was a bad idea.”

 

    “And that’s ever stopped you?” Isabel said with a knowing smirk. “Besides; we’ll both be sober and there won’t be any shovels anywhere.”

 

    A quiet snort. “Well, in _that_ case,” Loki said before getting up.

 

 

******

 

 

    “I see why you wanted me to come with you; you wanted a pack mule,” Loki grumbled as he adjusted his hold on the many bags Isabel had passed his way without a second thought.

 

    “Cute _and_ smart! _How_ are you still single?” Isabel teased with a grin.

 

    “You’ve just said: I’m smart,” Loki retorted, earning a laugh.

 

    “Calm down, princess; we’re almost done,” Isabel said with a roll of her eyes.

 

    “You do realise how pointless an insult that is to a shapeshifter, don’t you?” Loki asked with a raised eyebrow.

 

    “You do realise now you’re going to have to show me that, don’t you?” Isabel asked back.

 

    “If you can get this cuff off me; I’ll show you whatever you want,” Loki replied, glancing at the offending item distastefully.

 

    “Deal,” Isabel said without hesitation almost before he could finish the sentence.

 

    As Isabel walked into her last shopping destination for the day, Loki stopped at the doors. “You _must_ be joking.”

 

    Isabel paused and turned around. “What? It’s just lingerie; it’s not like it’s anything you of all people haven’t seen before.”

 

    “I’ve seen how long you take choosing a shirt _that you own;_ this is going to take hours,” Loki said, looking positively horrified by the prospect.

 

    “Well, fine; if you don’t want to help me, just take that back to the tower, then,” Isabel replied, looking utterly crestfallen.

 

    “No, don’t do that. That’s not fair,” Loki practically pleaded, trying _not_ to focus too much on her expression. When it didn’t change, he threw his head back with a frustrated sigh before walking into the store. “Fine. _Fine!_ Just... _stop that.”_

 

    Isabel’s expression immediately brightened and he silently cursed himself for falling for that _again._ He checked all her other purchases at the counter then trailed after her as she looked through the store’s selection. After a while he picked up a grey bra with black lace on the top of the cups and was promptly offended by the price tag on it.

 

    “How in the Nine do women afford anything else after purchasing a few of these?” Loki asked incredulously, putting the bra back where it was.

 

    Isabel snorted. “That? That’s nothing. Try having a period,” She replied then smirked, “Besides, _I’m_ not paying for this; Tony is.”

 

    When she had a handful of bras, Isabel dragged him over to one of the changing rooms and sat him down on the bench. She pulled her blouse off and tossed it at him, earning a glare she winked at, then took off the bra she was wearing and tossed it too, though he was ready for it and caught it easily. The first bra she tried on, a red one with darker red lace on the bottom of the cups, she grimaced at before even adjusting the straps and took off, muttering something about ‘damned itchy bands’. The second one, Loki noticed, was the same one he’d picked up, only presumably in her size as that one had been quite small.

 

    Isabel turned this way and that before the mirror, narrowing her eyes critically at her reflection, then turned to Loki. “What do you think?”

 

    “Why does it matter what I think?”

 

    “Because you’re _here,_ and you’re my _friend,_ and that’s what friends _do.”_

 

    Loki heaved an exaggerated sigh then sat back and really looked. “It’s nice,” He concluded almost tonelessly.

 

    Isabel rolled her eyes. “Was that so hard?”

 

    “It could be,” Loki replied with a wholly inappropriate smirk.

 

    “O, Dios,” Isabel said, hiding her face in her hands and snickering despite herself.

 

    She tried on several more bras, chucking more into the rejected pile than she was happy with, with Loki offering commentary that was occasionally _not_ filled with innuendos. Indeed, the Trickster seemed to be having enough fun that he didn’t mind her coming and going a few times to look for more bras to try on. At the end of it, she had eight new bras and a bill she didn’t want to think about, even if she wasn’t the one footing it. Before they left the changing room Isabel told Loki to close his eyes, which immediately made him suspicious, given that he’d just spent the better part of two hours staring at her half-naked form at her insistence, but he complied if only to humour her.

 

    “Okay; you can open them now,” Isabel called after a few moments then tried not to laugh at his expression.

 

    She had, in her last search, found a garment she’d kept him from seeing; it was a bustiere in a deep forest green, with black lace on the edges of the cups that trailed down in a V-shape to about an inch from her bellybutton and up to the wide straps.

 

    “You are, without a doubt, the absolute _worst_ type of person,” Loki finally said, dragging his gaze up to her face with difficulty to find an _incredibly_ smug smirk.

 

    “Well then, aren’t we a pair?” Isabel replied coyly with a wink.

 

    “You’re getting that,” Loki said, his tone brokering no argument. Not that she intended to give any, really; the look on his face alone was worth the rather exorbitant price tag.

 

    Still...

 

    “Only if you’re very, _very_ good,” Isabel replied somewhat huskily, leaning forward just slightly.

 

    That earned her the near predatory expression she was looking for. “Oh, I can _assure_ you; I _am.”_

 

    Isabel breathed a laugh then walked over to him, reaching back and undoing the bustiere before setting it down on the ‘purchase’ pile. She got dressed again and they left the changing room to pay for her things. All in all, she considered the day a success as she returned home with everything she’d needed to get done followed by a god very much pleased with his decision to go outside after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'O, Dios' = Oh, God


	5. Predictability

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Imagine whenever you get separated from Loki in public, you know to always check the nearest book store first because he always absentmindedly wanders into book stores.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was not what I was going to write. What the hel, brain. What the hel.
> 
> Ah, well; enjoy anyway?

    In the time she had known him; Isabel had come to love and hate in equal measure going out of the tower with Loki. On the one hand, like most everything they did together, it usually had an element of fun, but on the other hand it meant having to keep a very close eye on the god. When Thor had told her shortly after their friendship had begun that his brother tended to wander, she’d brushed him off as just him being inattentive.

 

    She had been wrong.

 

    She had been _very_ wrong.

 

    It had not been a very fun day, having to come back to the tower and explain how she’d lost their barely-reformed almost-prisoner, especially since she’d been on probation herself. It had probably been only the Thunderer’s intervention that kept her from being thrown back in the cell she’d so recently vacated, and she was still subtly paying him back for it.

 

    After the next four times it happened, though, Isabel had noticed something that saved her much aggravation and stress since. It was so simple, really. She couldn’t believe she hadn’t noticed it sooner.

 

 

******

 

 

    They were on assignment in Rhode Island; their target had been eliminated and they decided to ignore orders to return home straight after to relax and do a little sight-seeing. Isabel had been distracted by a phone call inquiring none-too-gently why the hell they weren’t back yet for a while, and when she finished and turned back around she noticed that her partner had disappeared. She looked around a bit, but the Trickster was nowhere to be found.

 

    “Típico,” Isabel grumbled to herself, unlocking her phone again and going straight to the map app.

 

    After a bit of walking she reached her destination, a cosy-looking book store, and went inside; the smell of books filled her nose and she spared a moment to close her eyes and enjoy it before beginning to meander among the shelves. She kept most of her attention directed towards finding Loki, but still browsed the shelves for potential purchases. At this point, between the two of them they had filled the library at the tower and the spare room on their floor, had books scattered throughout their floor, and _still_ didn’t seem to have enough.

 

    She faintly thought that maybe they had a bit of a problem then dismissed the thought as quickly as it came.

 

    One could never have too many books.

 

    Isabel had a few books in her arm when she turned a corner and finally spotted her wayward friend. There was a shopping basket on the floor next to him full of books and he was reading the back of another in his hand. She smiled to herself then walked up behind him, dropping her books into the basket before standing on the tips of her toes and resting her chin on his shoulder, placing her hands on his waist to help her balance.

 

    “I didn’t take that long,” Isabel murmured amusedly.

 

    Loki turned around, causing her to take a half-step back, and shrugged slightly. “Still too long.”

 

    Isabel rolled her eyes then glanced down at the basket and back up at him with a raised eyebrow. “You know we’re running out of places for those, right?”

 

    “I don’t see you restraining yourself either, dear,” Loki pointed out with a half-smile, earning a grin.

 

 

******

 

 

    “You take less time to find me of late,” Loki commented as he sat on one of the beds of their hotel room waiting for her to get dressed so they could leave.

 

    “I know you better now,” Isabel replied as she rubbed lotion onto her legs. “Wish I’d known sooner; me hubiese ahorra’o par de favores,” She added with a huff.

 

    “You do know that Thor hasn’t even noticed, don’t you? You don’t need to keep repaying him.”

 

    “It’s the principle of the thing, Loki; it was a damn big favour.”

 

    “Know what?” He asked as though only now registering the entirety of her words.

 

    Isabel giggled and walked over to him to grab a navy skirt behind him, putting it on then grabbing her bra. “Oh, you know; stuff,” She replied teasingly as she put it on.

 

    Loki narrowed his eyes at her then, while she was beginning to adjust the straps, lunged at her and pulled her down onto the bed beneath him, earning a surprised yelp. “Tell me,” He demanded, pinning her wrists on either side of her head.

 

    “¿O qué?” Isabel challenged with a cheeky smile.

 

    Loki’s answering smile was sharp. “Do you really think it wise to test me, Isabel?”

 

    Isabel’s smile widened and she lifted her head up as best she could and blew out a breath of frigid air at him, causing his glamour to falter. “No,” She replied, “But I’ll do it anyway.”

 

    Loki chuckled, the menacing pretence melting away, then leaned down and kissed her cheek, his lips turning as blue as his hands were in response to her current temperature. “And that’s why I love you,” He said as he got off of her.

 

    “Aww,” Isabel cooed as she sat up and adjusted one of her bra straps.

 

    Loki rolled his eyes in response. “You’re still going to tell me,” He said, pulling the other strap up on her shoulder.

 

    Isabel laughed then moved to straddle his lap and grabbed a grey t-shirt that read ‘Bad Choices Make Good Stories’ in black letters from behind him. “Am I, now?”

 

    “Yes, you are; you can’t keep a secret from me to save your life, Isabel,” Loki replied matter-of-factly.

 

    “Does my life depend on it now?” Isabel laughed, leaning back enough to put her shirt on without smacking him in the face.

 

    “Does it need to?”

 

    “Maybe.”

 

    Loki let one of his hands slide up her spine and over her shoulder to wrap around her neck firmly. “Then maybe it does.”

 

    Isabel grinned and wrapped a hand around his wrist. “I guess it does.”

 

    Loki pulled her closer until their noses brushed then moved his hand to the back of her neck and rested his forehead on hers, closing his eyes. Isabel followed suit with a contented hum and they stayed like that for a while, until she moved back and wrapped her arms around his neck, causing Loki open his eyes again and look at her expectantly.

 

    “It’s really simple, mi vida,” Isabel began then pulled him closer again, “You’re predictable.”

 

    “How so?” Loki asked with a slight frown. He was many things, but he never thought predictable was one of them.

 

    Isabel laughed lightly. “Books, Loki; you always end up wherever the books are.”

 

    Loki blinked then furrowed his brow in thought. He’d never really noticed, but the more he thought about it the more he realised she was right. Whenever he wandered off and she found him again, they were in some book store or another. He didn’t really mean to end up there; it just happened.

 

    Isabel laughed again. “You’re adorable; you know that?”

 

    That earned her a glare.

 

    He was _not_ adorable.

 

    Without warning, Loki stood and tossed her onto the other bed then grabbed his things and left the room, followed by Isabel’s unrestrained laughter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'Típico' = Typical  
> 'me hubiese ahorra’o par de favores' = I would have saved myself a few favours. 'Ahorra’o' is slang; the proper word is 'ahorrado'  
> 'O qué' = Or what  
> 'mi vida' = Term of endearment; literally 'my life'


	6. It Goes Without Saying

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Imagine drunkenly rubbing your hands all over Loki’s face and telling him how beautiful he is. Loki is very amused

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This turned out a bit (read: completely) angstier (not to mention longer) than I intended. Ah, well.

    Loki was avoiding her. This would not stand.

 

    Isabel had believed the excuse that he was busy with something that didn’t involve her (they were, after all, separate people with separate lives) twice, then simply let it go twice more because _she_ was busy, but the fifth time could no longer ignore it. She didn’t presume to be the centre of his universe, but dammit, they were friends and they should damn well act like it. And friends did not ignore friends for a month, particularly friends who lived some twenty feet from each other. She decided she needed to get to the bottom of this.

 

    To that end, she waited until he was in the shower to go into his room and sit cross-legged on his bed.

 

    He wasn’t really surprised to find her there, he figured she’d confront him sooner or later, and simply jerked his head towards the closed door leading out to the hall. “Out.”

 

    “No. We need to talk.”

 

    “There’s nothing to talk about; leave.”

 

    “Why?”

 

    “Because this is _my_ room and I said so.” When she didn’t move he let out an annoyed sigh and turned his back on her, resolving to ignore her until she got fed up and left. He got as far as putting on pants before his own resolve crumbled and he turned back to her. “Isabel, get out; I don’t want you here.”

 

    “Why the hell not?” Isabel asked back instead. “I know you’re not mad at me; so why?”

 

    Loki hesitated a moment before regarding her coolly. “Because I don’t need you anymore. I only began spending my time with you because you were the only one available. That is no longer the case, so I have no more use for you.”

 

    A look of hurt flashed across Isabel’s face and she finally stood. Instead of leaving like he thought she would, she suddenly threw her hand out and sent a blast of ice shards at him, forcing him to throw a force field up to deflect them, and he looked at her as though she’d lost her mind. She looked back at him angrily, unconsciously dropping the temperature of the room several degrees.

 

    “If you’re gonna throw our friendship away, you’re damn well gonna tell me the _real_ reason, because that’s bullshit and you know it,” She snapped.

 

    Loki glared at her for moment then the fire went out of him and he looked down with a sigh. “It’s Margaret,” He finally said, looking back up at her, “We fought. It seems she has issue with... well, _us.”_

 

    Isabel looked at him incredulously then scoffed. “Didn’t peg her for the jealous type; or you to put up with it.”

 

    “That’s not fair, Isabel,” Loki countered, “You know we’ve always tended to blur the line between what is appropriate for a platonic relationship and what is not. That was fine while neither of us was committed to anyone, but that’s no longer the case and I want this to work.”

 

    Isabel sighed but didn’t argue, knowing he did have a point, even if she didn’t particularly like it. “Fine, I can keep it professional. I mean, we’re still partners.” At his somewhat guilty expression, realisation stuck her. “No me jodas.” When his expression didn’t change she threw her hands up exasperatedly. “It’s your life.”

 

    With that, she left the room, going into hers and locking the door behind her in a thick layer of ice to make it clear she wanted no visitors.

 

 

******

 

 

    Isabel was avoiding him. Which, alright, had more or less been the goal, but that didn’t mean he liked it.

 

    It had been four months since he’d put an end to... whatever it was they had in order to appease his girlfriend, and quite frankly he was miserable. She wasn’t doing much better, if the fact that so far she’d almost killed four partners by accident was any indication. That they worked well together was only part of the reason they were paired in the field, after all; he was the only one her powers were not potentially lethal to. Her not being happy wasn’t really helping her keep in control of them and he hated that he was at fault for it.

 

    To makes things worse, things with Margaret hadn’t been going so well lately and he had no idea why. He’d done as she wanted; wasn’t that enough? Apparently not, because they’d been arguing with increasing frequency about seemingly everything. The only reason he was still with her at all was because she practically begged him not to whenever he so much as brought up the possibility of breaking up, and things were good for a time afterwards. At least until the next argument.

 

    As a result he was almost perpetually stressed and irritated and it was beginning to wear on him.

 

    He walked out of the elevator on his floor after yet another argument and into the lounge, intending to have a drink (or twenty; he could go either way, really), only to find the room covered in about two inches of snow - more of which was still falling from thin air, mind - and Isabel curled up on the couch with a mostly-empty bottle of rum in her hand. After a moment’s thought, he made his way over and sat beside her, taking the bottle out of her relaxed grip and drinking what was left in it. He tossed the bottle into the snow a few feet away then sat back, silence stretching on for a long while as he tried to come up with something to say.

 

    “Do you even _like_ her?” Isabel asked suddenly, not looking at him.

 

    He didn’t reply for a while. “I’m not sure I do. I _want_ to. After all the work I’ve put into us; I want to.” He heaved a sigh. “I’m not sure it’s worth it anymore.”

 

    “Relationships go both ways, dude; you can’t do all the work yourself,” She said, turning to face him and poking his forehead, “It don’t work like that.”

 

    Loki scoffed. “Since when are you an expert in relationships? All of yours have ended terribly.”

 

    “That’s precisely what makes me quile-... qualis-... _puta,”_ She swore. “I know when shit’s wrong, alright?”

 

    He chuckled for what felt like the first time all day. “You’re drunk, dear,” He pointed out amusedly.

 

    “Only a little,” She replied stubbornly. “And I’m still right. This isn’t good for you.”

 

    He looked away. “I know it isn’t,” He finally admitted quietly, “But I’m tired of being alone.”

 

    Isabel stared at him then raised her hand and slapped the back of his head, earning a glare. “You’re not alone, pendejo,” She snapped, “What the hell do you think _I’m_ here for?”

 

     “That’s not what...” He sighed, “Never mind.”

 

    “I know what you meant, Loki, but do you really think you can get that from _her?”_

 

    “... No. No, I can’t.” He turned to her and pulled her into a hug that was as much for himself. “I’m sorry.”

 

    “Eh, not even you’re above being an idiot sometimes,” She teased, causing him to frown and shove her away, to which she laughed. She turned and picked up another bottle of rum from a pile of snow by the couch then held it out to him. “I think you need this more than I do.”

 

    He rolled his eyes but took the bottle anyway. Despite her words, she snatched it back every so often and he ended up having to get another bottle from the bar before long, though that one he flat out refused to share as it was asgardian liquor and would probably kill her given her already very drunken state. At some point Margaret called him but he ignored it, not really wanting to deal with her just yet. He could do that later, when the sound of her voice wouldn’t annoy him so much.

 

    He turned to say something and was met with a frigid hand on his face, a finger of which nearly poked his eye out, closely followed by another. He tried to back away, wondering what his inebriated friend was up to, but she just leaned forward in order to keep contact with his face before beginning to trace her fingers over every inch of it, his glamour faltering in response to her exploration.

 

    “Dare I ask?” He finally said amusedly.

 

    “I don’t know why you worry ’bout ending up ’lone,” She slurred in reply, “You’re too pretty to ignore.”

 

    Loki breathed a laugh. “Is that a fact?”

 

    “I’ssa fact,” Isabel replied with an overeager nod, “You’re beautiful, cabrón. Anyone who don’t see that s’just stupid. And s’not just your face; you’re just perfect.”

 

    Loki grinned, taking her hands in his own and pulling them away, much to her displeasure. “I’m not sure what I’m hoping for more: That you remember this in the morning so you have to live with the first-hand knowledge, or that you don’t, so I get the joy of reminding you.”

 

 

******

 

 

    Isabel concentrated deeply on the small target a few feet in front of her that she was steadily lowering the temperature of, so to test how much the material could withstand before it exploded like the others before it. So concentrated, in fact, that when Loki came up behind her and placed his hands on her hips she started violently with a shriek and a really quite profane exclamation, the box before her bursting into pieces with the sudden cold she subjected it to in her surprise.

 

    The grin that met her when she turned around was _far_ too innocent, but she found she couldn’t fight her own in response. It was good to have her friend back; even if she wanted to maim him a little at the moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'no me jodas' = contextually 'are you fucking with me'  
> 'puta' = 'whore'  
> 'pendejo' = 'dumbass'  
> 'cabrón' = contextually akin to 'dude'


End file.
